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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655035">Play Ground</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravnsflight/pseuds/ravnsflight'>ravnsflight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Keonwoong, Keonwoong keeps me up at night, Leedo's a felon, M/M, More tags later, Nightmares, Rejection, Seoho is innocent, Soulmates, Sucker for Seodo, Unrequited Love, camboy woong, cellmate au, more characters to be added as i go - Freeform, pre-established rawoong, seodo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:07:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,301</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655035</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravnsflight/pseuds/ravnsflight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>little weus drabbles, all written around a short, usually one-sentence prompt</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Son Dongju | Xion, Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong, Lee Keonhee/Yeo Hwanwoong, Son Dongju | Xion/Yeo Hwanwoong</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>PROMPT: “please, don’t do this.”</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hwanwoong, please.” Keonhee’s voice cracks on his best friend’s name. He’s gripping Hwanwoong’s sleeve so tightly, neither boy would be surprised if the fabric ripped. “Please, Woong. I’m begging you. Don’t leave.” he’s pleading, and it’s desperate and it’s ugly, but it’s all he can do. He’s never had the courage to tell Hwanwoong how he feels about him, and now he’s missed his chance. The younger boy is leaving for Paris, indefinitely, to join some famous dance studio -- to do what he loves. Completely unaware that Keonhee loves him. Or maybe not completely unaware. “Keonhee, I have to do this.” While Keonhee’s hand is twisted in Hwanwoong’s shirt, Hwanwoong’s small hand is wrapped gently around the older boy’s wrist. “Let me go, Keonhee, please. You’re making this harder than it has to be.” he pries Keonhee’s hand off of his shirt, and turns to grab his suitcase. “Woong, please.” Keonhee’s crying, and it’s breaking Hwanwoong’s heart. “I love you, Woong. Don’t go.” The shattering sound is in his head, what he imagines his heart sounded like at the moment. He’s always had an inkling that Keonhee returned his feelings. But they’ve been dancing around each other for six years, and the other boy never said anything. Until now, when it’s far too late. “Dont, Keonhee. Please. Don’t do this.” Hwanwoong is crying now, too, and his voice is trapped in his throat. He wipes viciously at his eyes with his sleeve, and rushes out the door, Keonhee’s hiccuping cries following him down the corridor until he exits the building.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"i hate to tell you this, but you're pretty"</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I hate to tell you this, but you’re pretty.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a compliment; at least it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost </span>
  </em>
  <span>a compliment. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>be a compliment, but coming from the scary-looking man in the corner of his cell, Seoho found it less than flattering. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man looks up from the book he’s reading, eyes watching Seoho carefully. “You’re pretty. They’ll tear you apart in here.” It isn’t said unkindly, but it still serves to stiffen Seoho’s spine, to send a shock of fear through his body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seoho’s cell mate obviously notices, and he puts the book down, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, feet resting comfortably on the floor. “What’s your name?” he asks. He’s a big guy, built like someone who probably has been here for a while, and Seoho has the vaguest sensation that he should probably be scared shitless of him, like he is of everything else in this prison, but there’s an odd sort of warmth radiating from the man’s eyes, and it permeates the heavy layer of panic that has covered Seoho like a blanket from the moment he stepped foot through the doors of this building. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seoho. Lee Seoho.” he says, focusing on forcing his breathing to even out. Panicking will do him absolutely no good, and he’s pretty sure at least that this guy isn’t going to kill him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you, Seoho. I’m known around here as Leedo. My friends call me Geonhak, though.” his voice is low, and as warm as his eyes, and Seoho feels himself relax a tiny bit, almost subconsciously. “Can I ask what you’re in for? Or is it still too fresh?” there’s a hint of amusement in Geonhak’s tone, and Seoho relaxes even more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Grand theft auto, actually.” he says, and at the look on Geonhak’s face, he rushes to elaborate. “I’m technically innocent. I was only stealing back a car that already belonged to me. But the guy I was stealing it back from has family in high places.” he frowns, and Geonhak hums sympathetically. “What about you?” Seoho asks, frown already dissipating as he looks at his cellmate. He kind of wants to guess arson. Geonhak kind of looks like he’d enjoy setting things on fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Murder.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>PROMPT: "Close the door."</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>unrequited xido :( little angsty, sorry</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A knock on the door sends Dongju scrambling up to the head of the bed, pulling the sheet across his body, up to his neck. “Come in.” he calls out quietly, eyes sharp and alert as the door slowly opens. He sighs in relief when Geonhak walks in, but his heart rate kicks up. “Ju?” Geonhak says gently, and the caress of the words on his lips sends a shiver down the younger boy’s spine. “Close the door.” he demands, and as Geonhak turns to obey, Dongju rises up onto his knees, dropping the sheet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geonhak’s eyes widen when he turns back around, eyes taking in the mostly naked boy in front of him. “Dongju, what are--” Dongju shushes him, beckoning the older boy closer. “Geonhak, please. I don’t want to talk.” he says, and his voice is fragile, as if even just a sharp gust of wind could break him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geonhak frowns, mouth slightly open in surprise, and that’s not the reaction Dongju was hoping for. The younger man shrinks backwards as Geonhak steps towards him, hands outstretched. He opens his mouth to speak, but Dongju shakes his head, tears welling in those big, beautiful, doe eyes. “Don’t. Geonhak, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” it’s one last plea, but he already knows it’s useless. He can see the apology in the older man’s eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dongju’s ears burn, his cheeks and chest flushed with mortification. “Ju, baby--” Geonhak tries again, but Dongju holds up a hand -- the one that isn’t clutching the sheet to his naked chest -- to stop him. “Just go, please.” he says. Geonhak hesitates before taking a step forward and Dongju jerks away, hot tears spilling over onto his cheeks. “Just go, and pretend this never happened. I was foolish to think you could ever want someone like me.” he lays down on the bed, pulling the sheet over his head, and sobbing into a pillow. It’s the most heartbreaking sound Geonhak has ever heard, but he knows he isn’t the one who can comfort the younger right now, so he leaves quietly, going to find Dongmyeong so at least Dongju won’t be alone. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. IV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>PROMPT: "It's three in the morning."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The phone playing the Hotel Del Luna theme music at top volume woke a cranky Hwanwoong from his sleep. He had the music set specifically for when Dongju called. He peeled one eye open, noting the time on his lockscreen. “You better have a good fucking reason for calling me.” he groans. Dongju laughs, but the sound is empty. “Can’t I just call my favorite hyung because I want to talk?” he says, and Hwanwoong sits up rubbing at his eyes. “I’m not your favorite hyung. It’s three in the morning. What’s wrong?” he asks. There’s silence on the other end, and Hwanwoong knows Dongju’s trying to weigh the pros and cons of admitting that there’s anything wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had a nightmare.” he finally says quietly. Hwanwoong frowns. The younger boy has nightmares every once in a while, but usually Geonhak is his go-to nightmare deterrent. Dongju can hear the gears in Hwanwoong’s brain slowly waking up and beginning to turn, but he saves the older the trouble of trying to figure it out. “You died.” Dongju’s voice catches, and Hwanwoong is already standing, searching in the dark to find his sweatpants. “It was awful, Woong.” Dongju is crying, and Hwanwoong’s heart breaks, even as he walks out into the hall and past two doors to the younger boy’s room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opens the door quietly, and walks over to Dongju’s bed where the boy is curled into a ball, crying softly. “Scoot.” he commands, and Dongju does. Hwanwoong climbs into bed beside him and wraps his arms around the younger boy. “See? I’m here. Alive and well. Go back to sleep, alright?” Dongju nods and Hwanwoong plants a soft kiss on the back of the other boy’s neck. They fall asleep wrapped tightly around each other, and Dongju sleeps through the rest of the night with peaceful dreams of soft kisses and playful laughter. </span>
</p>
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